The Merging of Masks
by blue.rose.spobette
Summary: Troian/Keegan. Based on a Tumblr prompt. The two discuss residual romantic feelings that occur off-camera.


_**A/N:** Based on a Tumblr prompt. First time writing Troigan. Hope it's decent enough!_

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**The Merging of Masks**

Acting was a delicate art. It required the unflinching ability to step out of one's own comfort zone and, in most cases, out of one's own character entirely. It meant digging deep into the recesses of your emotional capacity in order to replicate a potentially foreign feeling, sometimes basing a portrayal on the recollection of some particularly painful memory. It was often necessary to strip oneself of all possible pretenses, and stand metaphorically naked and vulnerable in front of an entire camera crew until the scene was completed to the director's liking.

There were two major pitfalls to avoid, both of which had been pounded into Keegan's head by his most trusted mentor, and each was of vital importance.

Number one: failing to achieve true authenticity.

And number two: conflating the feelings of a character with your own.

He'd been successful thus far, in his own opinion, of steering carefully clear of both possible hazards.

But the second had grown to become rather more difficult than originally anticipated.

He remembered the first kissing scene he'd filmed with Troian, and how many barriers he'd had to cross at that time. There were some impromptu giggle interruptions that ultimately ended up on the cutting room floor, as well as his own juvenile fear that she would be underwhelmed by his lip action. It was somehow both awkward and natural, simultaneously. Awkward because he had come to regard her as a dear friend, yet natural because of the very same thing. She made him feel somehow comfortable in even the most challenging of scenes, her pre-camera pep talks resonating in his brain every moment that the film was rolling.

One kissing scene had turned into two, and two had quickly multiplied into a dozen. And with every additional kiss came a new layer of complacency – which subsequently meant a new layer of confusion.

It was the oddest thing in the world, to speak to her off-camera and feel the sudden urge to kiss her good-bye, as though it were as normal as Spencer and Toby's onscreen romance. He had never meant to confuse character with reality. But as time progressed, the line had blurred past the point of recognition.

_A dAngerous gAme_ had been a point of particular contention for him, as his absence from the set for an extended period of time had given him the illusion that his brain was re-wiring itself back to default settings. He had spoken to her on the phone countless times during his absence, and it had started to feel like things may finally be back to normal. But the moment their lips met again in front of that camera, everything he thought had re-taken proper form had begun to smear incomprehensibly all over again.

His heart had been beating rather wildly in his chest as they lay beside one another in the motel bed on set, winding their fingers together in faux romantic affection. Her bare shoulders gave the illusion to the camera that she was nude beneath the sheets, and though he knew full well that she was not, he felt an odd tingling in his belly nonetheless.

What made everything worse was the fact that he rather liked her boyfriend, Patrick. He was a stand-up guy and treated her quite well. Which, somewhere deep in his subconscious, inspired the unfounded urge to punch him in the throat.

He was lost somewhere in the catacombs of his mind, mulling all of this over for the millionth time, when Ashley smacked him jokingly with a menu.

"Earth to Keegan," she announced, snapping her tangerine-painted fingernails a couple times in front of his face.

He was unceremoniously careening back to Earth as he began to remember where he was. It was their annual post-production cast dinner in their usual private dining room, and his blond friend was staring at him from across the table with mock impatience.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Did you say something?"

"We were just talking about how the fans are going to react to Toby being alive," Tyler offered helpfully. "Marlene seems to think most people already had it figured out."

"Are you joking?" Troian laughed from beside him, playfully rolling her eyes. "The Spoby fans wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Spend five minutes on any message board or Tumblr blog, and you'll see that most of them have pegged that he's a double-agent from the beginning."

"At least you guys will be celebrated during the hiatus," Lucy said. "Meanwhile I'll just be over here dealing with Tweets about breaking Ezra's heart."

The group laughed good-naturedly at this, knowing it to be true.

"Toby has a very loyal fan base," Troian added, affectionately squeezing Keegan on the knee. "Everyone knows him and Spencer belong together."

Keegan wanted to agree out loud. But with her hand perched on his leg, the words suddenly got lost somewhere in his larynx. So he simply nodded, providing the most genuine smile he could muster.

"You're quiet," Shay surmised, sipping on her Margarita. "You okay?"

Troian extracted her hold, looking up at him to expectantly await his answer. His throat opened up properly once more.

"I'm fine," he said. "Tired, that's all. It was a long day."

"Yeah, it was," Ian agreed noncommittally, his eyes narrowed as he studied his menu. "I can't decide between the lobster bisque or the salmon…"

"Salmon gave you food poisoning last year, remember?" Lucy said, nudging him with her elbow. "Go with the lobster."

Ian snapped his menu closed confidently, clapping a hand on her shoulder to wriggle her back and forth playfully. "See, this is why I keep you around, Hale."

Keegan was so distracted by chuckling at his costars that he did not notice Troian reading a text message beside him. But suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her posture stiffen, smile melting slowly from her face.

"I'll be right back," she muttered, grabbing her purse and making her way toward the VIP patio. Keegan watched her retreat, concerned at her sudden change of mood, but nobody else seemed to find it out of the ordinary.

"When do you think Mike is coming back?" Tyler was pondering aloud, though his voice sounded somehow faraway to Keegan, who was concentrating on Troian's form pacing back and forth out the window.

"He went into the Rosewood vortex with Sean Ackard and Noel Kahn," Shay joked. The table shared a laugh. Keegan hardly heard the punch line, and wasn't quite sure what had been so funny.

"Excuse me," he said distractedly, rising out of his seat to make his way to the patio.

"No, I know," she was saying into her phone when he stepped out beside her. "I completely understand."

He studied her expression. Even in the dark he could see that she was lying. Her eyes glistened with the threat of incoming tears, and she was visibly trembling in the cool night air.

"All right. Yeah. I'll talk to you later."

She ended the call and let out her breath with a loud '_whoosh_,' purposely turning away from Keegan as she gathered her composure.

He took a hesitant step toward her. "Is everything okay?"

"Well," she began hoarsely, fiddling with her phone for lack of anything better to do, "Patrick just broke up with me."

"What?" he demanded instantaneously, rushing forward to get a proper look at her face. She seemed to be holding it together rather well for the time being, but he was prepared for the bottom to drop out. "Why?"

She smiled sadly, waving her hand in dismissal. "It's a long story. Things have been kind of hard the past few weeks and…it was just…time."

He sighed sympathetically, taking her by the shoulders to pull her in for a hug. She willingly collapsed against his chest, her face buried in the collar of his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Troi," he offered earnestly. "I know how much he meant to you."

"That's just it," she mumbled, her voice slightly muffled by the cotton of his button-down. "It hasn't been the same for a long time. Longer than I've been willing to admit, I think. I just wanted it to work out so badly…"

"I know," he said quietly, running his fingers through her hair at her scalp. "I know."

The stood like this for a few moments, gently rocking back and forth on the spot. It didn't feel out of the ordinary – it was what they had _always_ done for one another.

He was lost in the moment when her voice suddenly broke him from his reverie.

"How do you think our scenes went today?"

Try as he might, he could not suppress a dark chuckle in reply.

"Really? That's what you're thinking about?"

She pulled away, sending an inexplicable chill through his frame. He tried not to pay it any mind, more concerned with the way her gaze remained downcast even as she stepped back.

"I don't know _what_ I'm thinking about," she began quietly. "But today just struck me as…different."

He arched an eyebrow, trying to catch her eyes. She did not budge.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…do you ever think that…maybe…" She trailed off, and after a beat shook her head fervently. "Never mind. Forget it."

"No," he urged gently, taking her hands supportively in his. "Tell me."

Her eyes slowly came back to meet his, and she looked far more timid than he had ever seen her. It gave him pause.

"Sometimes those scenes confuse me," she said softly. "Like I'm forgetting that you're just my friend."

He felt his heart involuntarily skip a beat at this, but he did not interrupt. He needed to hear the rest.

"Sometimes I wonder where my feelings end…and Spencer's begin."

"Like maybe we're not faking it as much as we think we are," he added uncertainly.

She nodded slightly, her gaze flickering away once more to concentrate on the rising moon behind him. "Yeah. Something like that."

He inhaled deeply, taking a cautious step forward. She did not flinch away, which he took as a good sign. Sliding his hands across her delicate face, he allowed his thumbs to linger on the prominent lines of her cheekbones, bringing his face so close to hers that he could smell the wine on her breath.

Her mocha eyes were boring into his once more, hesitant curiosity blazing from their depths. He leaned forward to brush his lips across hers ever-so-slightly, careful to gauge her reaction before making any sudden moves.

She responded after a beat, but her movements were just as slow and deliberate as his, as if wading in from the shallow end before diving in headfirst. And though he desperately wanted both of them to find their way to the deep end, he chose to pull back, studying her expression carefully.

"We have all the time in the world to explore this, if we want to," he murmured quietly, relocating his hands to gingerly massage her shoulders. "When and if you're ready."

She smiled somberly in his direction, raising her fingers to curl around his at her collarbone. "Thank you…for understanding that."

He pulled her slowly into his frame, wrapping her in a second hug. She snaked her arms around his waist, holding tightly onto him as if he were the only thing anchoring her in reality. "You're welcome."

He could not deny that his heart was racing at a million miles a minute, which she had assuredly noticed by now. But he wanted her to have the space she needed – the time she needed – to be sure that ending things with Patrick was truly what she wanted. The last thing he would ever want to do was confuse her, and he wanted her to know that he supported whichever decision she chose to make.

But he could not lie – her kiss, however tame, had been some degree of intoxicating. And he was going to keep his fingers silently crossed that it could perhaps happen again someday, as Troian and Keegan. Not Spencer and Toby.

Good things come to those who wait. And all he could hope for was that someday he'd be a testament to that credo.

_**END**_


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